


In case we never get this chance again

by Coffee_Flavored_Kisses



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Smut, and we're all right, one of a thousand versions of what happened at stevie's, tickling for some reason, what happened at stevie's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 02:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19097641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses/pseuds/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses
Summary: This is just a mostly plotless piece of work that I imagine happened when the boys spent the night together at Stevie's.I feel like every writer in this fandom is required to have some version of this in their writing. This is mine.





	In case we never get this chance again

They didn’t count the hours until they had to vacate Stevie’s apartment. In fact, they weren’t sure they’d have to vacate it at any specific time at all. So why count the time? They knew that they had tonight. They had now. And they were finally, blissfully alone together with not a worry in the immediate area to keep them from exploring one another further.

It had started with kisses. Long, whiskey-laced kisses drawn out and melting everything away around them. Like a drink that went down smooth, they couldn’t get enough of this. And before either one of them knew it, their glasses were on the floor next to their shoes, they were back in the bed, David on top of Patrick’s body, and everything in the world had disappeared except for the two of them.

David positioned himself between Patrick’s legs and ran his fingers under the sweater and tee that kept their skin apart. When he pressed soft kisses against the skin of Patrick’s stomach and pushed the sweater higher, Patrick let out a laugh that landed somewhere between ticklishness and sheepishness.

David smiled up at him. “Oh, I’m already learning something new about you,” he teased, his fingers brushing over the sensitive area just above Patrick’s navel.

Patrick laughed again but reached down and took a hold of the offending wrist. “Is this really how you wanna spend our first night together? A tickling contest?”

“It’s not a contest without competition.” He dug his fingers a little deeper, a little more properly tickling Patrick.

“You little sh--” Patrick started, but before he finished the word he was reaching down and gripping David’s shoulders, turning him over, running his fingers up David’s sweater as David had just been doing to him.

David smiled, but no laughter escaped his lips even as Patrick tried in vain to find a ticklish area on David’s torso. “It’s no use,” he said, stretching his hands over his head and into the pillow. “I’m just not ticklish.”

“Everyone’s ticklish somewhere,” he persisted, fingers crawling up either one of David’s sides as their smiles grew broader, and Patrick watched David flinch as he reached the skin under his arms.

“Ah-ha!” Patrick shouted like he’d found gold, and David protested in a less-than serious manner, just happy to have Patrick’s hands on him at all. In any way. Anywhere.

David’s hands moved up over Patrick’s arms, to his shoulders, to his face. He held him there as fingers froze and smiles faded. It was as if only now, only in this moment did they realize why they’d come here at all.

Patrick sat back on his heels and peeled off his sweater and tee together, tossing them to the floor. It was the first time David had seen him topless, and he let his eyes wander over every turn, every mark, every freckle bared before him.

Patrick leaned down and kissed David again, and his hands pulled up gently on David’s sweater.

“I have a process,” he said as he interrupted their kiss. “When my clothes come off, they don’t go to the floor. And they don’t get crumpled.”

Patrick smiled. “Well where’s the fun in that?”

“Um, I don’t actually think we need to ruin our clothing to have fun.”

Patrick’s lips curled slowly upward. “So let me take it off. I’ll be gentle.”

David shook his head, hesitated, then sat up a little to remove his sweater. Immediately, he folded it the way they folded merchandise in the store, meticulously and carefully, then set it on the small table beside the bed.

“Hot,” Patrick commented. “And this?” He pulled at the hem of David’s tee shirt.

“Someone’s in a hurry.”

“David, I’ve been trying to get in your pants for like four months now. Yes, I’m in a hurry.”

David looked down at the shirt, smiled, looked up at Patrick again. “I guess we don’t have to be as gentle with this,” he said, pulling Patrick down into a deep, sloppy kiss.

Patrick pushed the fabric up and only parted their lips while he removed it fully from David’s body. With them both shirtless now, Patrick found a strange comfort in the contact of their skin. David’s olive tone, the dark trail of hair that covered his chest like a Jackson Pollock painting and then fell lower, more sparsely, over his stomach. It was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful.

“You wanna know something embarrassing?” David said with a grin when he caught Patrick looking him over.

“If it’s embarrassing for you, I’d almost pay to hear it.”

David paused before he continued, and Patrick rolled off him and to David’s side, still close, still draping one arm around his shoulders as David spoke again at last.

“I used to wax everything.”

Patrick’s brows knit in confusion as he ran his fingers over the small, course hairs. “You got rid of this?” he asked. His voice was pitched higher now for some reason.

“I used to take a lot of photos on vacation. Lots of resorts, lots of warm weather. I had a better tan and I was… yeah. Hairless, basically.”

Patrick snickered. “What is wrong with you?”

“So much,” he laughed. “Do you know how much it itches when it’s growing back?”

“I can imagine!” He laughed into a kiss on David’s chest, right at his clavicle. The kisses continued along the same line, then lower, over his ribs and down his stomach. Then he looked up.

“Wait…” he asked, now perched, hovering over the lower half of David’s body. “Why would you tell me that if it’s so embarrassing?”

David shook his head. “I don’t know.” And he really didn’t.

Patrick rested his chin on one of David’s hipbones and stared up at him. He smiled, but he didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“What?” David asked, propped on his elbows and looking down at him.

“You’re cute,” Patrick answered with a wink.

David fell back into the bed, maybe embarrassed, definitely blushing. He knew that the outside excuse for coming here with Patrick was to fuck each other’s brains out some way somehow. But this was almost as good. Hell, maybe this was even better. After all, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gotten a room for the two of them and then spent the first part of the evening calling him cute and finding ways to make him laugh.

But as he felt Patrick’s fingers on his skin just then, he knew that they weren’t doing what they were doing to see if he was ticklish. Unmistakably, Patrick had found the zipper of David’s pants, and the tips of his finger danced around it as kisses painted the inside of his still-clothed thigh.

He propped himself up again to watch Patrick, whose fingers were working open the button, whose eyes were closed, whose mouth tasted sweeter than that organic apple butter they’d sampled last week.

Patrick’s eyes opened, immediately catching David’s. He pulled slowly at the zipper. His mouth trailed kisses back up David’s thigh, closer.

“What are you doing?” David asked quietly.

“Going on an expedition.”

David smiled. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Why? Should I not?”

Patrick had never had a cock in his mouth before. Abstractly, before he’d met David, he’d thought of it. Whether subconsciously in a dream he later decided didn’t mean anything, or three shots deep in that bar he stopped by en route to Schitt’s Creek while he chatted it up with the very attractive bartender. But only since David had he actually craved it. Only in these past few hours had he started to wonder how he’d approach it.

“I’m not stopping you,” David said finally. But he watched everything Patrick did, almost as if he’d have to guide him to it, draw him a map. As if it wasn’t already painfully obvious that Patrick wanted it, wanted anything at all. Nothing could have hidden that at this point.

Patrick moved up a little to get a grip on the waist of David’s pants. He reached under and David pushed his hips up enough for Patrick to pull them away from his body, revealing the black silken texture of the briefs he wore underneath. David’s cock was hard, huge, barely contained beneath the fabric. Patrick salivated at the mere thought of it. He ran his hand up David’s bare thigh and cupped him over the fabric, leaning in to kiss him again.

He’d teased David once, saying that his cock should come with a choking hazard. That was the first time he’d felt it, his hand in David’s pants, both of them standing somewhere in the back of the store playing grab-ass between customers. But now that he was so close to it, now that they were alone, he really did begin to wonder if he’d be able to handle it.

“Take it easy on me, okay?” he smiled against David’s lips just before he left them. “I’m a sort of a virgin.”

David laughed. “Yeah. Me too.” But then it hit him, the reality of it all. And he felt like an asshole. “Take your time,” he added.

Patrick didn’t want to take his time. He wanted David inside him, anywhere, and he wanted to feel something new. He always felt something new with David every day they spent together, but this would be an entirely different level of _look what we’ve done_. His eyes stayed fixed on the way David watched him as he pulled down at the soft, stretchy fabric to reveal David’s hard cock awaiting his touch.

Patrick knew he made some sort of sound when he saw it. He knew that those few, brief glances he’d gotten looking down at it between their bodies in dim lights wouldn’t do it justice. He knew that as often as he’d palmed it, around it, over fabric that contained it, he could never fully appreciate it until this exact moment as it strained just inches from his face. He wanted it in his mouth, in his hands, and again, anywhere he could get it. But that wouldn’t be his way. It would betray the raw need he tried so desperately to hide from David.

He pressed a kiss just beside it, then the other side, then trailed his tongue and teeth down the inside of David’s thigh. He watched as David’s body squirmed, as his cock twitched the exact moment Patrick got just close enough. And he knew he shouldn’t be nervous. He knew what felt good, what didn’t, the general idea of how to do this. He’d had it done to him plenty of times before. This shouldn’t be as daunting as it was.

But when he held David in his hand, when he licked a long, slow line up the underside of the shaft, he felt as though his heart was going to explode.

He could hear David’s soft breaths, sighs, little noises as he lay his head back into the pillow and Patrick just held him for a moment, his hand moving up and down slowly. He circled his thumb slowly around the tip, lowered his mouth over it, carefully taking David in a couple of inches before pulling back up again. He stopped to breathe more often than he thought he would have to. He couldn’t take it in nearly as deeply as he wanted to. He had, by now, made David jump a time or two when Patrick’s teeth grazed an area too sensitive for it to be anything close to pleasant. He knew he could be better at this. Much better. But David wasn’t saying anything.

Patrick released David from his mouth after only a minute or so of effort. He wanted this all to be perfect for both of them, but he had no illusions about his talent or lack thereof. He’d once hooked up with a girl who deepthroated him in the bathroom of a bar, and he remembered the intensity of that sensation. He wanted to try that with David, to give him that same feeling, but with actual emotion attached to it. But it wasn’t going to happen tonight. It could be one of those things he guessed he’d learn along the way.

He pumped David’s cock slowly in his fist, his mouth once again resting on David’s thigh, his eyes upward for reaction, for instruction, for any interaction at all. He tried again, lowered his mouth on David, this time a little more aware of his tongue as it swirled around any bit of David he could fit into his mouth comfortably. For a moment, he was lost in this, in the idea that he could make anyone at all feel good. That he could make David feel good. That he could make David feel anything.

And then he felt the gentle touch against the side of his face, fingers in his hair, and a soft beckon to “come here” as he paused to look up again. He kissed his way back up David’s body until he found his lips, felt large hands splayed over the bare skin of his back, straddled David, paid no attention to anything else but being held like this for now, kissing sweetly, slowly, the lips of a man with whom he was rapidly falling in love.

David’s hand strayed further down Patrick’s back, fingers slipping slightly under the fabric of his jeans. “Take these off,” he whispered. And with one look at those dimples, Patrick knew he was a goner. He rolled away from David’s body and wriggled out of his jeans and underwear as fast as if they’d been on fire, then reached to pull David’s body on top of his own. He wrapped his legs around David’s waist, ran fingers through David’s hair, felt every bit of themselves now pressed together like they were always meant to fit. And as David moved lower to kiss Patrick’s neck, his chest, Patrick braced himself yet again for something new.

And of course David was an expert at this. The way his lips curled around Patrick, the way his tongue tasted all around, found the most intimate areas of Patrick’s body and worshipped them with hums and breaths escaping while he pulled Patrick’s legs up over his shoulder. Patrick reached down to thread his fingers through David’s hair, only glancing down once or twice as if acknowledging this was happening would break the spell and make it all disappear. All of this was so sweet, so easy, so natural. Everything about it felt so right. And in spite of his heart beating out of his chest, Patrick also felt impossibly relaxed.

He knew it couldn’t last forever. Hell, at this rate it wouldn’t last long at all. Especially when he started to hear the sloppy, sensual sounds David made as he moved faster and faster on Patrick. He tightened his grip in David’s hair and spoke his name, and David understood. He placed his hand on Patrick’s cock and moved up, working his hand faster as he kissed Patrick through his orgasm.

Patrick breathed heavily against David’s mouth as their lips parted. His eyes opened to catch every bit of David’s satisfied smile, the obvious feeling of having done a job well. And for some reason he didn’t exactly understand, he started laughing. David just watched him, amused, curious.

“What?” he asked.

Patrick shook his head as the laugh faded to a smile. “I don’t know.” He reached up and trailed a finger along David’s cheekbone, along his jawline.

And then David felt something. He didn’t understand it, and a part of him didn’t want to. Understanding it would mean reckoning with it, and reckoning with it would mean saying it out loud. And he wasn’t going to say it out loud. Instead he said, “I like the way you touch me.”

Patrick looked over at the Kleenex box on the table, and he didn’t have to say anything for David to move over there to grab a few and help clean Patrick up. Somehow, this was even more intimate than what had caused the mess in the first place.

When David kissed Patrick again, it was deeper, hungrier than the time before. Patrick smiled again, mumbled against David’s lips, “Let me do it again.”

“You don’t have to,” David answered.

“I want to.”

David stopped and looked down at the kind eyes beneath him.

“I do. I want to,” Patrick repeated.

David turned back into the bed, his lips and Patrick’s welded together, hands in Patrick’s hair, legs around Patrick’s hips before Patrick returned to his destination. He took David into his mouth again, daring to go deeper than before, even if it did induce a gagging sensation that he was thankful David didn’t notice. He braced his hands on David’s hips, knew he probably should have been doing more, making more contact than this, doing something clever or wonderful. Trying to remember what David had just done to him and how he’d done it but coming up blank because all he could remember was that it felt like heaven. All of it did.

His fingers curled around the base of David’s cock while his mouth made up for the rest of the space, his other hand still holding David’s hip like he thought he might lose it or something. He could hear David telling him it felt good, to relax, that _yes, that right there, do that again_. And he obeyed. He was terrified he’d do this wrong somehow. And then he felt a hand on his, fingers tugging at Patrick’s. he looked up, and David was holding his hand.

Maybe it was meant to be encouraging, or maybe it wasn’t. But Patrick suddenly went right for it and bobbed his head up and down faster and faster, humming little noises like David had done, lips tight, tongue wet, that fist mimicking the motions his mouth made.

David’s noises grew louder and less distinct, and Patrick could see the way his head sunk back deeper into the pillow, the grip on his other hand now so tight he could feel his knuckles losing color.

“Kiss me, kiss me,” David pleaded, pulling Patrick up and into a kiss, and no sooner had their lips met than David came. It was loud, enthusiastic, wildly entertaining for Patrick, who laughed against David’s lips when he felt him come.

And as the laughter faded, as kisses grew slower and longer, as they ended up sleepily wound up in each other, lying on their sides, facing each other, it happened. David said something he didn’t want to say. Something that he had been trying not to say all night.

“You’re different.”

Patrick, confused, asked what he meant.

“I mean, you’re just… you’re different.”

“From?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” But he knew. Different from anyone else he’d been with. Different from anyone he’d chased after. Different from LA and New York and strangers at resorts around the world. Different from anyone in Schitt’s Creek. Different. Better.

“Well,” Patrick said after a moment’s consideration, “You might have already known this, but you’re kinda peculiar yourself.”

“I like to stand out.”

Patrick smiled. “Oh, you do. You always have.”

They both needed sleep, and desperately. And it wasn’t as if they didn’t want to sleep, but they didn’t let themselves. Not much, anyway. Patrick told David about home. David told Patrick about his complicated familial relationships. Patrick told David about business school. David told Patrick about Ibiza. Patrick told David about how he lost his virginity. David didn’t share his first experience, but he did share his last. Patrick hated how recently it had been, but he didn’t dare show it. He’d already thought too hard about David’s past that night.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” David smiled.

“Was it okay? For my first time, I mean.”

David smiled. “I didn’t think I’d have to answer that. I thought it would be obvious given the fact that it clearly worked for me.”

“Yeah, but you know. You can have sex and everything works, but it isn’t good. I’m not asking you if it worked for you. I’m asking if it was good.”

It wasn’t the best blow job David had ever received. Not in a technical sense. There’s a waiter in a pop-up bistro in Soho who owned that title until Patrick did, eventually, dethrone him some months later. But by far, David had never had a night better spent than this one, and it wasn’t even half over.

“It was perfect,” he said, barely audible.

“So…” Patrick searched David’s eyes. “It was bad.”

David smiled. “No. It wasn’t bad.”

_This could have gone worse_ , Patrick thought. He’d settle for this assessment. It was his own stupid fault for asking.

And then they discussed life again. David fell asleep as Patrick told him about the first time he got drunk, but woke up just as Patrick finished the story. Both of them fell asleep soon after that, but the unusual presence of another person in the bed made each of them a little hyper-aware. It had been months since Patrick had shared a bed. It hadn’t been quite as long for David, but it felt as though he’d _never_ had this.

Morning came, and neither one of them wanted to leave the bed. But they knew Stevie would have to come back to claim the place eventually. And there was work to do. David didn’t like the temperature of Stevie’s shower last time he used it, so he asked Patrick to take him to the motel, which he did.

They sat in the car and kissed goodbye for close to four minutes. They didn’t know when they’d get another night like this. David hoped he could convince Stevie to make this a weekly thing. Patrick figured they had the rest of their lives. They’d figure it out.


End file.
